Distraction
by Romantic In Denial
Summary: This word suddenly had me thinking of Jarbie and when they first meet. My take on what was going through their minds. Hope you enjoy this one-shot. Thanks to everyone who has read, will read and who has taken the time to leave a comment. I appreciate all of it and hope to keep you interested! :)


He clenched his fists, cursing to himself, his mind refusing to stay on task. And that task was getting out of this goddamn town. He didn't need any distractions and she was one impressive, unexpected, beautiful distraction. "What the hell?!" He didn't even realize he had spoken aloud until he registered hearing his words.

He had known beautiful women in his past, took them to bed and dismissed them easily once the deed was done. What was so special about this one? He had known redheads before but her fiery curls seemed to blaze in the sun with a magical aura that made him want to bury his hands in those locks. But that was just the beginning. He wanted to crush his face into the softness of neck, her creamy, flawless skin beckoning him to breathe in her scent, the scent he could faintly discern from a distance, the scent he wanted to lose himself in.

Distraction...he didn't need one! He didn't need _her_. She was pushy and brash, asking questions he wasn't prepared to answer – even the simplest one. "Who the hell are you?" She pinned him with her glance, eyes filled with suspicion and curiosity. He couldn't look away from the intensity of her gaze and found himself wondering how he could soften that gaze, what it would be like to see desire and need.

Her lips had curled in a half smile/half sneer as she asked that very blunt question. That should have made his hackles rise, should have put him off. He didn't like pushy women. Instead he felt desire slam through his core...desire to kiss those lips, to feel her respond to him. What was wrong with him?

Distraction...he didn't want one. At the end of day all he wanted to do was crawl into his car, get some sleep and figure out how to get out of Chester's Mill. Yet, here she was, inviting him to stay at her house, insisting when he tried to refuse. "I heard you saved a kid's life today. I'm not about to let you sleep out here like an animal. Come on." She inclined her head toward her car, her lips curving into a welcoming smile. Helpless, he followed.

Distraction...he had one.

XXXX

distraction: that which distracts, divides the attention, or prevents concentration

She knew what it meant. After all, words were her business, so she knew that she could **not** afford to let herself be distracted. This event, this anomaly, this unexplainable entrapment – that's what she needed to figure out. Instead her eyes followed this stranger, studying his lithe movements, the way he exuded both confidence and wariness.

He stopped at her question, his answer not in the least satisfactory. Who the hell calls himself "Barbie". OK – a nickname and he's quick to point out that he's not her story. She should let him go, let him move on, away from her.

Distraction – she didn't need one. Damn it! She tried to rein in her thoughts, steer them away from his cool blue eyes and the way he appraised her. "Damn it! I can't – I'm married." Words that were beginning to have no meaning as she asked him to show her what he knew about this invisible wall.

She learned what he knew, little that it was and a few tidbit about him as well. Former military and here entirely by chance if she could believe that. They walked easily side by side...her glance turning to him often. She liked the way he filled out his shirt and where the hell did that come from. She was always oblivious to men and their interest in her. After all she was married – married, she tried to keep that thought in her mind, regardless of the fact that her husband had hardly lived up to the definition lately.

Distraction...she didn't want one. So why did she start to wonder what it would be like to have him suddenly wrap his arms around her. Those very able arms that she knew could be gentle as well as powerful. And his eyes – she wanted to see them turn dark with desire. Somehow she knew that they would do just that. When he reached for her hand to help her climb over a fallen tree, she knew. Desire...an emotion she had become a stranger to...desire sparked as soon as she felt his touch.

At the end of the day she should have let him go his own way. It would be safer, wiser...if not for him, then for her. Yet here she was, inviting to stay in her house, the house belonging to her and her husband. When he demurred, she insisted and in the end he agreed.

Distraction...she had one.


End file.
